


Secrets Never Stay Buried

by xxxRosebudxxx



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alpha Alana Bloom, Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Hannibal (TV) Fusion, Awesome Alana Bloom, Babies, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Will Graham, Canon Gay Relationship, Canon Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Clarice Starling (in name only), Conflicted Will Graham, Dubious Morality, F/M, Gaslighting, Gender Issues, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Implied Reproductive Abuse, Internalized Misogyny, Lesbian Character, M/M, Manipulative Will Graham, Married Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Misogyny, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Mpreg, Omega Margot Verger, Omega Will Graham, Parenthood, Poor Will, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Pregnant Will Graham, Puberty, Sassy Will Graham, Single Parents, Sisters, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Twins, Will Graham Needs a Hug, Will is a Mess, Will is an overprotective mom, my first omegaverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2019-11-24 01:06:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18159422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxRosebudxxx/pseuds/xxxRosebudxxx
Summary: Will Graham, a childless, and unbound omega had resigned himself to a life alone. Until the Alpha, Dr. Hannibal Lecter stepped into his life and utterly seduced him. He truly believed he was no longer alone in the world.Which is why it tore him apart when he discovered his mate was a cannibalistic serial killer, and turned him in to the FBI.Will tries to move forward, tries to protect his family from the very name of Hannibal Lecter. But secrets never stay buried, they just take root and eventually grow back to the surface.This started out as just a oneshot, but I got so much traffic and comments I felt I had to expand it into something greater. Previously this fic was titled as "Everything Falls Apart."





	1. Prologue: Confronting the Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Graham enters the hospital where his Alpha, his mate, and the Chesapeake Ripper for what he plans to be one last final confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****CONTENT WARNING*** **  
> This scene contains references to cannibalism, references to murder, threats of murder & suicide, gas lighting, emotional abuse, and implied reproductive abuse (means compromising someone's birth control/other methods into tricking someone into impregnation). Will Graham isn't necessarily a good person or a completely innocent victim.****

October 9th, 1994

The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Midday.

“You don’t have to go in there Will,” whispers Alana.

Her hand squeezes his shoulder, trying to coax her dear old friend to look at her. But Will can’t break his thousand-yard stare down the long and dark dungeon like hallway, where at the end of a dozen cells Hannibal is waiting. His Alpha. His mate. His husband. The Chesapeake Ripper. Finally caught, locked away in a cage. Thanks to Will.

“At least don’t go in there alone,” she pleads.

Will remains silent for a good solid ten seconds till he seems to somewhat come out of his trance and speaks.

“I have to do this alone,” he states, eyes never leaving the hallway.

“Will-.”

“I can handle it,” he says, firmly.

A tall dark black man in a white turtle neck and lab coat is unlocking the barred door into the hallway, he had introduced himself earlier as Barney Matthews. The door opens, Will steps in, and then the door is firmly closed behind him.

“Like you’ve already been told, stay two feet away from the glass, I’ll be watching over you. Got a chair out for you too,” says Barney, in a gentle tone.

Will doesn’t seem to hear him, his attention again transfixed on where his mate awaits him. As he slowly walks step by step, he pays no heed to the other inmates he passes whistles and howls. Being a rare male omega, and violent criminals often being Alphas, the lonely inmates were frantic at the smell of Will’s pheromones.

However, the omega’s nose only reacts upon the scent of his Alpha, of which he hadn’t smelled in weeks. He’d been staying with his dogs up at Alana and her wife Margot’s mansion rather than in the home he and Hannibal had made. His body, and his very heart aches at the scent.

At last he reached Hannibal’s cell, who was already standing in anticipation of Will’s visit. His face is calm, with a slight closed lip smile of amusement. Unlike the other cells with typical bars, this one has an extremely strong glass wall keeping him caged. The walls around him are so cluttered with his sketches, they’re practically a collage. Many are of Will, near perfect reconstructed images from Hannibal’s eidetic memory. External reinforcements of his mind palace.

“Mylimasis,” he chimes, using the Lithuanian term of endearment Will was all too familiar with.

Will fights against his body’s urge to purr in response to his mate and composes himself to a state of calm to match Hannibal. He would not let the Alpha manipulate him, not ever again.

“…Dr. Lector,” he responds, coolly.

The curl of Hannibal’s smile increases ever so subtly, his person suit very well put together for this occasion.

“So cold to your husband, Will.”

“Cold to the Chesapeake Ripper,” he says, flatly.

“The Chesapeake Ripper is still your husband. Still the man you adopted Abigail with. Still the man you made vows to. Still the Alpha you barred your throat to.”

Will relieves those moments they lived together in flashes, that feel like they’re happening in real time but are really, only happening in seconds. The cool metal of his wedding ring being slipped onto his finger by Hannibal, before a judge in the courthouse. Alana, Abigail, and Jack’s smiles as they stand by as witnesses to their union.

The time he and Hannibal took Abigail to her college campus, and helped her set up her dorm. Tearfully saying good-bye and assuring her that she would do great. That was also the first time she’d called Will mom, and Hannibal dad.

Then flash back to their wedding night, clawing and fucking each other like beasts. Will arches his back and neck as orgasm begins to rapture his body, and finally the sharp tear of Hannibal’s fangs in his throat. In the haze of the aftershocks, the Alpha props his omega into his lap, who bares his fangs, and buries them into the Alpha’s throat. Sealing their mated bond, in permanent scars for the world to see on their necks.

Will’s eyes water as he comes back into the present, but still he keeps the rest of himself unmoved. But he can’t hold back his words.

“Enough. Stop referring to yourself in the third person. You pretentious prick.”

The coldness in his voices evaporates with each word, replaced with pure venom by the final word. Hannibal’s face remains in a state of mild amusement, eyebrows perk to suggest “such rudeness but from you, I like it.”

“Very well. Do you care to tell me why you’ve come?”

“…Closure.”

“The empath couldn’t assume my perspective for a change?”

“No. I know your perspective. I just need to hear it from you myself.”

Hannibal chuckles softly, and Will suppresses the urge to punch into the glass barrier between them.

“We both know that’s not why you came,” Hannibal muses, stepping closer.

“Don’t patronize me,” Will retorts, trying to deny the implication he knows the Alpha is about to claim.

“I missed you too, Will.”

“Shut up, shut the fuck up,” Will growls, his fists clenching at his sides. His composure officially gone.

“Oh my rebellious omega, how I love to see you in your glorious fury.”

“Is that why? Is that why you seduced me from the very beginning? Convinced me you understood me? You get off on my pain?!”

“I do understand you, just as you understand me.”

“Liar,” Will screams.

“You know it’s true, I understand the part of you that you so desperately try to keep buried.”

Will shakes his head violently, as wet hot tears stream down his face. Hannibal steps even closer and presses his hand to the glass, it just at the level of Will’s head. The distressed omega cannot help himself but to lean his head against the spot and deeply inhale his Alpha’s scent, the smell of chocolate...and blood. Despite him being the cause of his suffering, he’s also the greatest comfort he’s ever had. A desperate and submissive whine escapes his lips.

“Shhhh, mylimasis. Everything I did, I did to help you unearth your true self.” Hannibal whispers in so much earnest, it’s a pray.

The intercom speakers from Hannibal’s cell turn on, Barney Matthews voice echoes into their ears.

“I’m very sorry gentlemen, but I must have you step away from the glass.”

“My apologies Barney, my omega needs the comfort of my scent very badly. Just a few more moments? For his sake?”

 There is a pause, and then the intercom speaks again.

“Alright Dr. Lecter. Just a few moments, but you both will be searched thoroughly afterward.”

“Thank you Barney,” Hannibal replies, and then purrs loudly to further soothe Will.

“Mmmmm…I hate you,” Will whines, the words of loathing carry a strange affectionate tone.

“Yes. But you also love me.”

“Oh? Than why are you in there and I’m out here?”

A tear drips off his nose to the floor, yet a smile draws across his face. Hannibal now presses his head to the glass where Will’s forehead leans against, breathing in his omega scent. Savoring it.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you discovered the truth Will, though I suspect you knew before you even realized it. You snared me into your trap as revenge for my deception. Which I don’t blame you for and have already forgiven you.”

Will jolts back from the glass in disgust, and spits at Hannibal.

“That’s not true! I’m not just some spurned lover! You had to be stopped! Because you are a monster!”

Hannibal says nothing, only smiles contently into Will’s blue eyes.

“It’s only a matter of time till I get out of here...I can’t wait to show you the world.”

Now Will is the one that carries an air of amusement, making a noise somewhere between an exhausted sob and a manic laugh.

“You honestly believe I’d run right back into your arms? Live on the run with you?”

Utterly baffled that his mate thinks they could just run away from all this and everything would be fine.

“Is it not romantic,” Hannibal asks, with an affectionate smile.

“I’d kill us both first,” snarls Will, with an equally affectionate yet malicious smile.

“That would be rather romantic as well.”

“Or maybe just myself, to spite you. Escape you.”

“Escape me? Or yourself?”

The omega looks away, back down at the end of the hall. Alana has been urgently watching the exchange the whole time, her face full of concern for Will. His smile turns to warmth for her, signaling that he is fine. Well, as fine as he can be.

“But really Will, don’t do something so reckless. I could not live without you.”

“Well I can live without you,” he says, still gazing at Alana. His words meant to harm Hannibal while assuring her.

“You once cried out in my arms that you could never go back to being alone,” Hannibal purrs.

Will straightens his back, beaming a full teeth smile, as his hand caresses his flat stomach. Hannibal blinks, and his jaw drops, as he realizes the meaning of the gesture.

“And I meant every word. So…I made sure I wouldn’t be alone.”

The Alpha’s dropped face lifts back up in what can only be described as pure pride and he purrs louder.

“My unpredictable omega, you make me proud.”

“I’m going to disappear after they’re born, mylimasis. This life inside me, will never be touched by you. If I can help it, they’ll never know your name.” He now uses both hands to hold and protect his womb, smiling down at it.

The pride in Hannibal face melts away, and sours into anger cracking from his person suit.

“You would deprive me of my child Will?” His Lithuanian accent still calm, but unmistakably laced with a threat.

“I will protect them from the Chesapeake Ripper, from Hannibal the Cannibal,” he counters.

The caged man’s hands curl into fists, and a vein visibly pulses on his brow.

“I would never hurt them, you can’t honestly believe I would,” he growls.

Will pushes down his instinct to whine in submission and forces himself to keep smiling. His hands clasp more tightly over where his unborn child slumbers.

“That’s the problem Hannibal… you fail to realize the pain you’ve already caused them by being their father.”

The person suit Hannibal maintained so well, cracks again so much a good chunk falls off. His dark, beastly eyes water with tears. Revealing that Will had truly hurt him with his words at last, because it was true.

“Goodbye, Dr. Lector.”

He turns and steps his way back down the long hallway. Hears a loud thud of what must be Hannibal’s fist hitting the glass. But Will refuses to be the Alpha anymore heed.


	2. Chapter One: Teenage Rebels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Twin sisters sneak off into the night while their mother sleeps, and run into more than they wanted.**
> 
> *****CONTENT WARNING*** **  
> ****
> 
> **This chapter contains misogyny, threats of violence, really young teen girls being in danger, car crash, and implied threats of sexual violence. ******

June 18th, 2009

Naubinway, Michigan

Midnight

 

“Clarice, what are you doing!? Let’s go!” hisses Mischa, in a low whisper.

She waits for her twin at the front door of their house, anxiously twisting a lock of ash blonde hair between her finger, her deep blue eyes darting from the door to the kitchen. Three of the five family dogs are lying peacefully in their beds on the living room floor, but the twins’ dogs two wolf-dogs Artemis and Apollo are sitting tentatively, watching their masters. It’s making Mischa feel that much more guilty. Her short haired sister pokes her head out from the fridge with a devious smile, as she pulls out a couple sodas and shows them to Mischa.

They’re identical twins, same ashy blonde hair, lightly tanned skin, 5’6 height, both about 140 lbs, and big blue eyes like their mother. If not for their different sense of style, and how they styled their hair it’d be hard to tell them apart, at least to a stranger. Mischa liked her curls long, loose, and bouncy, and wore jean jackets, with floral t-shirts. Clarice’s hair had been straightened and her mother had shaved into an undercut style for her. She was not interested in make-up, and liked leather jackets and flannels.

“Come on! Pack them and let’s go!” she hisses, again.

Clarice chuckles under her breath as she slips the sodas along with the other snacks into her backpack, she loves to tease. She finally stands up and strolls leisurely, without a care for her sister’s desperation, to the front door, dragging the straps of the backpack around her arms and over her shoulders.

“You’re too easy Mischa,” she chimes gleefully, as she opens the front door.

“And you’re an ass.”

There is whines from Apollo and Artemis, wanting badly to come with their mistresses? on their getaway.

“Tss, tss,” the twins hiss simultaneously, and their loyal wolf-dogs obediently go mute.

“Bed,” Mischa commands.

They both go and snuggle up to their mother Hera, a jet-black German Shepard. Six years prior Mischa and Clarice had found the three of them abandoned in the woods, Hera was injured with a gunshot wound, yet still held out and managed to give birth to her pups. The twins’ mother had managed to save her, and the three had been part of their pack ever since.

Out they slipped quietly out the door, light on their feet as they skittered from the front porch to the tree where their bikes were leaning. Clarice’s bike was black with white lightening patterns, while Mischa **’s** bike was a simple light sky blue with music note patterns. The teenagers saddle their bikes and peddled hastily down the long dirt road, into the woods that surrounded their cabin home.

A peaceful place, in the middle of nowhere. Where the forest still had towering trees that were hundreds of years old. The closest town was seven miles away, with a community that was less than a thousand strong, consisting mostly of baby boomers, generation Xs, and the only millennials still there hadn’t graduated high school yet. People generally kept to themselves. During summers like this one, tourists would holiday at the local inns, or they had vacation homes along the Peninsula’s coast or hunting cabins.

Clarice and Mischa race each other down the road, pedaling hard against hills, and then free roll down with their arms outstretched. They passed maybe four houses, acres and acres of forest between each one Until they left the trees, and reached the main road with pavement. They reached their destination along the coast; the beach. Once their bikes hit the sand they, sprinted for the water, stripping off their backpacks and clothes till they were just in their bathing suits underneath. Mischa in a lavender bikini and Clarice in a black one piece. The twins dove into Lake Michigan’s cool night waters, the full moon and stars giving them plenty of light to see the beach behind them as they race for buoy bobbing far away.

They’d been doing this for weeks now, with their sleeping mother none the wiser.

When they finally reached the buoy, hitting it with their hands they couldn’t figure who had won their race but it didn’t matter. This was all about the thrill of sneaking out of the house, anact of rebellion that may seem tame to less sheltered teenagers **,** but was sacred to the twins. Their secret to keep. They hold onto the buoy, resting their bodies against it, allowing themselves to catch their breath before they have to head home, as they will be panting with exhaustion the entire way back.

“Clarice,” says Mischa, pushing her wet hair back looking behind them.

“Hmmm?”

Her eyes closed, just enjoying the feeling of the cool water around her submerged bottom half.

“There’s people watching us on the beach.”   

Her eyes snap open and narrow to the silhouettes of three or four men. Based on their distant voices young, maybe around the same age as the twins. A couple hands wave to them, Mischa waves back nervously. Both a bit tense at the unexpected onlookers. The long haired twin looks to her short haired twin for direction.

“Should we wait till they leave?”

“…No, we should just go home.”

“But we were going to build a fire, **”** Mischa whined. She knew she was being petulant but could not help herself. **“** Besides they may want to keep us company?”

“They could want something else Mischa.”

“It’s not fair to just assume the worst in them.”

“No but, being a little mean pales in comparison as to what they could do if they are the worst.”

Mischa sighs, and nods in agreement. She reluctantly releases the buoy and Clarice follows her twin and swim **s** back to the beach, both sisters keeping their pace steady, maintaining an easy speed. As they got closer, to the young men’s voices, the twins realized the strangers were teens **,** perhaps tourists, and entirely drunk.

When the sisters reached far enough they could stand in the water, the three boys were now casually seated in the sand and their eyes fixed on them. Each with a beer in hand. The twins could not scent them, but it was doubtful that they were anything but Alphas. Who else would stare at them with such blatantly apathetic consideration? Mischa reflexively crosses her arms, uneasy with eyes so intense on her body. Clarice straightens, with a hand on her hip like she couldn’t care less and her blue eyes match the boys’ intensity.

The girls hadn’t presented their second gender as omega, beta, or alpha yet. Though although it was likely to happen any day now. All the more reason to be cautious, especially with Alphas.

“Hey,” one says, the tallest of the three.

He’s very tall actually, Clarice would guess maybe 6’4 if he were standing. Nice cheekbones, full lips, and fit enough to be an athlete. Maybe sixteen or seventeen years old?

“Hey,” Clarice responds, her voice confident and strong.

She took Mischa with her arm wrapped around her shoulders protectively, reassuringly leading the way further.

“Here, we got your clothes and backpacks here for you,” says the second tallest, points to the folded pile placed a few feet away from them.

The twins recognize him-Danny Jones-he came up north every summer with his family. Their families aren’t really friendly but certainly acquaintances. He’s fourteen, just a year older than them. Tan skin, close to six feet tall, dark hair, and brown eyes. Must’ve brought his friends this trip. Probably presented Alpha earlier in the year. His scent is musky, like most Alphas, and his more unique layer of scent that of cloves spice. The tension in the air eases a little, the sense for potential danger lessened at the knowledge they know one of them.

“Thank you,” Mischa says, softly.

“Yeah, thanks,” Clarice says.

“It’s nice to see you two, I don’t think we caught each other much last year,” says Danny.

“You gonna introduce us Danny?” says the tallest one.

“Oh right, these are my friends Jake and Quin. Um and guys, these are the Starling twins Clarice and Mischa.”

He says this standing up, gestures back and forth between the groups. Everyone shakes each other hand, the tallest Jake noticeably grips their hands firmly with lots of eye contact. Clarice again, makes a point to be just as forward to communicate she won’t be dominated by him. He gives a half smirk, like he’s amused by her.

Quins is quiet, but polite. Burnette, blue eyes, and pasty pale. His build is slightly softer than the other two and just a slightly shorter than Danny.

“People call us the Starling twins,” asks Mischa.

“Oh yeah,” Danny answers, as he rubs the back of his head self-consciously.

The sisters raise their eyebrows at each other upon learning this information. Did people talk about them often? Mischa went to their stuff and got their towels from her backpack.

“You two got some speed in the water, you on your school’s swim team?”

“We’re home schooled by our dad,” says Clarice, as she dries herself with the towel Mischa passes her. She’s careful to remember to refer to their mother as father to strangers.

“Oh, why,” asks Quin.

“He thought he could do better than the school,” she explains.

“There’s no school here,” says Danny.

“It’s all the way out in Engadine, it’s a 40 minute drive away,” Mischa says.

“Shame. I’m on the varsity team. Maybe we could race some time?”

“Maybe, but we should get back home now,” Clarice states, matter of fact tone.

The twins are getting their clothes on now. Jake gets up, grabs a beer from the cooler, and offers it to Clarice.

“Why don’t you stay a little longer?”

Clarice looks at Mischa wearily, and shakes her head at Jake.

“No thanks man, we’re good,” she asserts, pulling her leather jacket on.

Mischa gives her backpack over, with hers already on and her bike at the ready to leave.

“You sure? It’d be nice to catch up.” Spoken by Danny, his voice very genuine and earnest.

“I’m sorry Danny we really need to go, our dad doesn’t know we’re out,” Mischa tells him, with an apologetic smile.

Jake’s green eyes light up as he hears this, and Clarice shoots Mischa a look that says very plainly how bad an idea it was to let these Alphas know that! Mischa grimaces in apology, crouches down like she’s dropped something, and casually feels around the ground for a decent sized rock or two to stash in her pocket.

“See ya,” Clarice snarls, and takes off, shooting her twin a look that clearly told her to follow Clarice immediately.

Mischa follows her, though waves Danny goodbye before she picks up speed to catch up. They peddle hard till they’re deep in the trees, back down the dirt road that will take them home, and the boys out of sight.

“Oh my god, that was scary,” Clarice yelps, finally letting her guard down.

“Yeah that Jake guy was off. Danny didn’t seem bad though, I’m surprised he turned out Alpha.”

“Ugh, don’t see he’s bad by the company he keeps,” she snorts, with an eye roll.

Mischa purses her lips together and shakes her head. She thinks Danny does **,** in some misguided attempt want to impress the older and bigger Alpha Jake. Or maybe that’s what her budding teenage hormones want her to believe.

Then…there is the sudden loud sound of a car horn and they snap their heads behind them to see a truck with the three boys inside. It’s weaving and barreling toward them.

“Hey girls! You sure you don’t want to hang!?” laughs Jake, sticking his head out the window.  

“Jake stop!”

The girls can’t tell whose tells Jake to stop, and they’re too busy slamming on the pedals of their bikes for dear life as the truck speeds closer. Their hearts pounding in their chests, and adrenaline courses through them. It’s engine roaring.

“Come on Clarice!” shouts Jakes, barely audible through the engine.

He drives the truck toward her, the bumper dangerously close to her back tire. She growls, gripping the bike’s handlebars so hard her nails dig through the rubber handle bars. A rush of heat suddenly hits her head, like something…popped and her vision blurs and then clear **s** again. Except now she’s seeing everything through a tint of light red.

“Leave her alone!” Mischa screams, as she watches Jake come so close to running her sister over.

Almost without knowing what she is doing, she throws one of the rocks she’d hidden away in her jacket’s pocket. Despite aiming at a moving target, and still riding her bike the rocks hits Jake square to on his temple, and he roars ferociously. The white of his eyes flood with red and he smiles with fury at Mischa. He swings the toward her, forgets the other twin. Mischa eyes widen, and she swings her bike straight for the closest big tree she sees. Just barely she dodges it, and though Jake slams his brakes he’s too late. The truck crashes into the tree.

“Mischa!” Clarice screams, the whites in her own eyes redden and the tinted filter she sees through deepens.  

Clarice slams her bike sideways, hitting the brakes. The tires shoot dirt and pebbles out of the ground till, she jumps off her before it stops completely. When her feet touch the ground, she’s suddenly aware that she is moving in an incredibly light and fast manner that is utterly foreign to her body. The heat she felt a second ago was no a raging hot storm in her body. Where is Mischa!? Where is her sister!?

“Mischa!” she screams, again so loud that it makes her ears ring painfully.

She doesn’t even look at the truck or the boys inside it, but sprints past them into the woods in utter panic. Following the trail left behind by Mischa’s bike **,** she stops when she finds it, but ~~not~~ her sister is nowhere to be found. Her heart drops in her chest **,** but she is unable to process the thought of her sister disappearing before she hears a faint cry.

“Ahhh, Clll..Clarice?” Mischa moans, several feet away from the bike where she’d been thrown.

Her face is covered with scratches from tree branches, and blood tickles down her from her forehead.

“Mischa!”

Clarice runs to her twin, tears forming in her red eyes. She falls to her knees and clamps her arms around her in a bear grip. She squeezes her arms around her twin so tightly, her arms begin to cramp.

“You’re hurting me!” Mischa whines, the sound of a wounded pup.

“I-I’m sorry, I was just so scared you were dead,” she shouts, her voice and hands tremble uncontrollably as she lets go.

“Clarice…your eyes…they’re red.”

Reddened eyes are the undeniable mark…of an _Alpha_. Bloodshot like hers are, of an Alpha in a violent rut. Before either can really digest this though, there’s footsteps coming toward them from the crashed truck.  

“You fucking bitches,” growls Jake, baring his canines and claws growing from his fingers.

The girls' eyes widen in complete terror as he starts to close in on them. Clarice stands, using herself as a shield, and snarls back at him. The bones in her fingers make a cracking noise as her own claws grow from them for the first time. Heat and rage are just burning through her like fire. The two Alphas stand against each other, ready and waiting for the first to lunge forward.

“Clarice no!”  

“M-Mischa, c-call mm-mama!”

She barely can spit the words out through her growls, her voice sounds completely bestial. Then finds herself without any thought left in her, launching for Jake’s throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Well, I finally got this chapter out. I'd actually written chapter two before chapter one, but hey I got it posted! I know I mentioned in the prologue comments I wasn't going to have a Clarice, whelp I changed my mind. :3 But it's really more of a reference, Will equates to the Clarice from the books more than my OC baring her name.**
> 
> **You might have noticed I changed the date on the prologue, it's because I wanted to fit the twins as young millennials because I can relate to that voice. Plus I knew what kind of music teens were into at that time, and didn't want to write teens that made me look our of touch.**
> 
> **I changed the title of the story because I honestly didn't like the original, it was too generic and vague. The new one fits much better, it's more directly references the themes I'm going to touch on.**
> 
> **I'd love to know what you all thought of the changes I've made to what I already had posted, and the additions I've made in this one. Were the twins believable? Relateable? Likeable? Unlikeable? Do you think I can improve them?What about the boys? Tell me! I love all your comments!**
> 
> **Much thanks to VirgiliaCoriolanus for beta reading and editing notes!**


	3. Chapter Two: True Despair or Deception?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal isn't handling his abandonment by Will well, and poor Will is having difficulty with his pregnancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you again to VirgiliaCoriolanus for beta-reading and providing excellent notes for this chapter!**
> 
> *****CONTENT WARNING***  
> **  
>  Suicidal behavior and ableist slurs! Oh, and vomit from morning sickness!

October 12th, 1994

The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

It has been only a few days since Will’s visit, an effect that left Hannibal a wounded animal. A wounded and cornered animal. The most dangerous kind. But one wouldn’t know that from how he behaved on the outside, especially to the poor souls who worked as orderlies, and so were unfamiliar with the manipulations he had sown on the outside. Since Will had left, he has simply laid on his cot, almost never getting up except to use the toilet. But that wasn’t often; he had refused any water or food for the time being. He could only summon the amount of energy to just lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling when not outright sleeping.

Barney, being the orderly in charge of Hannibal’s care, had been doing his best to coax the Alpha into eating or at least drinking. Politely suggesting a bite, sip, or two through the intercom for the last few days. All for nothing. Now the beta is standing a few feet from the glass of Hannibal’s cell, shaking his head in frustration and concern.

“Dr. Lecter…please eat, or least drink some water.”

The once insatiable cannibal remains silent, his eyes now gazing at his sketches of the mate, who had abandoned him in this prison.

“Are you sick, or…do I have to put you on suicide watch?”

“…Do you have children Barney?”

Hannibal’s voice is so low and broken, it’s barely audible.

“Yes doctor, just one so far. My Junior. Is that why you’re not eating, what your mate said? He may come around once he’s less angry.”

“Tell me, would your anger ever cool if your mate was a serial killer?”

“I…I don’t know what I would do doc.”

“I appreciate the honesty,” Hannibal says.

“You know I have to tell Dr. Chilton, and he’s been itching to have an excuse to hurt you. Just waiting to do it under the guise of looking after your health.”

That notion cracks a slight smile on Hannibal,

“A feeding tube would be the usual option, but he’ll have you forcibly fed.”

“Let him.”

Barney sighs, and then walks back down to the surveillance room down the hall. About an hour later he came back, this time with a team of other orderlies in white, and with the consistently smug Dr. Chilton. He’s dressed sharply in a tailored suit as always, cane in hand, its presence due to being injured by a patient some time ago. While Dr. Chilton possesses a handsome face and fit build, his weasel-like demeanor detracts greatly from his looks.

“Dr. Lecter, I hear you’ve been refusing to eat.”

After his pleasant conversation with Barney, Hannibal resigned himself back to the previous solemn, contemplative silence that he had allowed to reign since his mate’s departure. Dr. Chilton has been attempting to probe his mind since he arrived, with Hannibal supplying the good doctor with misdirection to diagnoses that do not fit Hannibal in the least. Not that any known diagnosis would fit him.

Before Lucifer fell, he had been considered one of the greatest angels in heaven.

Hannibal had not fallen, he had been created.

“Hmph, very well. Have him restrained and brought to the infirmary. Don’t forget the muzzle.”

Barney sighs, and motions to the other orderlies to prepare them.

“Alright Dr. Lecter, please stand up.”

They proceed with the elaborate and intricate straps of a full body straight jacket, to a sort of wheelchair that leaves him semi-standing and leaning backward. A muzzle is placed around the bottom half of his face. Barney carefully monitors every movement done by Hannibal and the other orderlies and when they’re done testing the straps, he checks them himself twice. No room for error, he knows as he checks off all the safety precautions paperwork on his clipboard.

“Nothing too tight doctor?”

“None. Thank you Barney.”

“Alright, lets go to the infirmary boys,” he says.

They wheel him to the infirmary, Barney never taking his eyes off the restrained cannibal for the entirety of the short trip. When they reach the place they hand them off to the doctor and nurses there.

“As you have refused to eat, Dr. Chilton has ordered you be hooked up to a feed tube.”

“What’s the problem? Hospital food not have enough people in it?” whispers a nurse to another.

“Nurse Houlihan contain your excitement.”

Hannibal looks at the woman from the corner of his eye. She’s young, perhaps new to the hospital, and a bit struck by the kind of patients she treats. The older black nurse she’s whispering to looks uncomfortable, arms wrapped around herself and shakes her head at Houlihan.

“Honey seriously hush, this is a hospital not a freak show for you to ogle at.”

“What? He can’t hurt us. You know I heard his mate is crazy, bet money they killed together and the omega only got off cause he made a deal with the feds.”

Unprofessional.

Rude.

How very, very rude of her.

Foolish.

The beast within him smiles, intrigued at the potential for new connections and manipulations he could conceive while he remains within these four walls.

 

 

October 13th, 1994

The next morning.

“There was an incident at the hospital,” Alana says to an exhausted Will clinging to a marble toilet.

He had just finished vomiting his breakfast; his morning sickness seemed to be worsening every day. The omega was still in his pajama pants and t-shirt, with a fluffy cashmere loosely tied around him. While Alana is dressed in a gray pants-suit, with a lovely red blouse and matching red lipstick.

“What?”

“Hannibal hasn’t been eating or drinking since your visit. They took him to the infirmary today and…”

“Please don’t tell me he got out.”

“No, no he didn’t…but.”

“But?”

“One of the nurses that was tending to him…apparently she was careless with the safety precautions, on top of saying something rude…”

“Oh God, did he kill the girl?!”

“No, luckily he wasn’t able to do that much. But she’s badly injured…he bit some junks out of her face.”

Will heaves over the toilet bowl again, evacuating the last bit of the cereal he’d eaten earlier. Upon finishing he props his elbows on the toilet rim and buries his face in his hands.

“Fuck.”

“I suspect he’d intended to escape, but the nurse must have really gotten under his skin.”

“Yeah no shit.”

Will stomach contorts in anxious knots, a combination of nausea, and his chaotic storm of feelings. He’s thankful the nurse pissed off Hannibal enough to delay his escape plans and feels incredibly guilty that his sense of safety came at her terrible expense.

“He won’t get out Will.”

“No, he just won’t get out the way he was planning this time around. Oh god, what have I done? I shouldn’t have told him, but I just had to hurt him. Prove that I don’t need him.”

He can’t wipe the tears out of his eyes fast enough to keep from making a mess of his face.

“…Will, this isn’t-“

“It is Alana! Not just the nurse but everyone he killed this past year is on my hands!”

He heaves again, this time all that comes up is bile, as his hands slam and clench the bowl so hard they’ll be bruised. When his abdomen finally stops contracting to vomit, an angry sob burst out of him, and he collapses into a fetal position onto the blue marble floor. Alana rushes to his side, combing his hair and rubbing his back, while also releasing her Alpha pheromones to further sooth him. She smells like burning apple and oak woods, a fragrance of warmth and safety Will so desperately needs. He trembles slightly, before giving out an exhausted sigh.

Although she isn’t his mate, scents from other people can still affect a mated omega. Especially if they’re closely familiar with each other. Parents and mates are the strongest source of comforting scents, but sadly Will has neither now.

“Please Will, blaming yourself won’t change anything. Guilt is only going to hurt you, and your baby. Even if he ever gets out, I’ll use every resource I have to keep you safe. He’d never find you.”

Will gives out a helpless whine, as he takes her hand from his hair and holds it tight to his chest.

“He’d kill you for doing that, you know that.”

“He can try if he dares.”

“Pfft hehe, you’re the bravest person I know.”

She brought herself down onto the floor and spoons him, continuing to hold his hand.

“Funny, I’d say the same thing about you.”

For a while, they just lay together on the floor. Alana continuously bathing Will in her pheromones, till the bathroom door creaks open and in comes a wobbly dark hair toddler named Morgan, with a fabulously dressed Margot following behind him.

“Mama? Why are you on the floor?”

Alana smiles as she sits up and opens her arms for her son to walk into.

“Your uncle Will isn’t feeling well, I’m just helping him feel better. Just like cuddles make you feel better when your sad.”

  He nods as he hugs her, then steps over Will’s legs and flops on top of him in a clumsy, entirely heartfelt embrace.

“I make Uncle Will feel better too.”

The omega laughs through his stuffy nose and wraps his arms around the small chubby boy. Alana holds her hand to her heart over how sweet and adorable her son is being, and Margot is beaming with pride, and deliriously happy to see Morgan display such open compassion and love. His sperm donor-and-her cruel deceased brother would never have behaved like this towards another living being, human or animal. She knelt down, wrapping an arm around her wife Alana’s shoulders as they chastely kiss each other. Margot gives a quick look at the toilet and concern fills her gaze.

“Your morning sickness seems rather severe Will. I think we should have the midwife make a house call.”

Will sits up, still holding the toddler, and flushes the toilet.

“Fine, call her,” he sighs, his eyes looking both apologetic and a bit begrudging.

When Will had told Hannibal that he was going to disappear once the baby was born, he’d meant it. Luckily with ridiculously wealthy friends like Alana and Margot, he didn’t have to take risky precautions like not seeing a doctor for fear of hospital records that could be tracked. The midwife was technically also a highly qualified doctor, but preferred the former title, and so did Will given his unpleasant memories involving doctors.

Margot takes Morgan from him, and Alana proceeds to help him back to his bedroom for him to rest till the midwife arrived. He was staying in the smallest and least immaculate guest room in the Verger estate, at his insistence, as he was uncomfortable living in such luxury. The room had simple but still elegant understated Victorian look with calming blue walls. Even when living with Hannibal, he had been uncomfortable with having wealth and struggled to accumulate to such a drastically different class he’d been raised in.

Dr. Sadie Raphael arrived a little over an hour later, equipment to examine Will, who was already available inside his room for convenience. She was a rather tall woman, dressed in casual-formal wear, her white lab coat purposefully not worn, with blonde hair lose and blue eyes like Will but lighter. He liked her enough, she was professional but not uptight, and never asked him about the baby’s father unless it was in regard to genetic health.

 Alana came in with her, moving a nearby chair closer to him, so she could sit at his bedside. He sits up, and lazily waves at the midwife.

“Hello again Will, I’ve been told you’re morning sickness has gotten worse.”

Will, still drowsy from his short nap, doesn’t answer right away as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. So Alana takes it upon herself to answer for him.  
“He can’t keep anything down Sadie, and he’s lost a good five pounds. Home remedies and over the counter drugs aren’t helping much.”

“Thank you, Alana, I can speak for myself,” he chides lovingly.

“Ok let’s check up on baby and see how they’re doing. May I?”

She gestures her hands to his belly, so he lifts his shirt and lowers his pajama pants for her to feel his belly. He tries not to flinch at her touch as she feels the slightest bump, which she looks a bit surprised to see and feel. She puts the buds of her stethoscope to her ears, and gently places where her hand just was, then smiles.

“Alright Will, I don’t think anything is wrong, but I would like to do an ultrasound.”

He runs his hand on the back of his neck, and nods. Once Sadie has put on the cold gel on his stomach, and the wand pressed firmly down, she smiles again at the ultrasound screen.

“Ah, I think I know why your morning sickness is so bad. The sneaky little thing must’ve been hiding behind the other during the last ultrasound.”

“One behind the…?”

Will goes silent, and his big blue eyes widen. Twins. He was carrying twins. Sadie turns the ultrasound screen for him to get a better look and sure enough there the teeny tiny things were. Their arms barely visible as they huddle together, facing each other almost like they’re cuddling.

“Omega and Alpha pairings are more likely to have multiples, a litter so to speak. And morning sickness tends to be more severe with multiples, along with other increased risks. But not to worry, we’ll just keep a closer eye on things as they grow.”

The omega is still quietly shocked by this news, he had wanted a child, and was prepared to be take on the responsibility of a single parent…but knowing he’s going to have two children, well his brain can’t decide between crying for joy or shitting himself with terror. He just stares at the ultrasound screen and listens to the two little heartbeats echoing over any other noise in the room. Alana also didn’t say anything, her faces conveying shock but also a tint of concern.

 “They’re sharing both the same placenta and amniotic sack, so they’re monoamniotic twins. Identical. Given your earlier blood tests, they’re both likely female.”

Two little girls. He intended to name one after Abigail or Alana, give her a nickname like Abi or Ally to differentiate her from the original name bearers. Or maybe just use them as middle names…When he and Hannibal discussed having children, he mentioned he’d had a little sister named Mischa, and would like to name their daughter after her should they have one. But Will quickly shuts the door of that memory with a hard slam. It was no use yearning what they had, what they could have had together.

He draws his attention firmly back in the here and now, asks Sadie questions about what to expect further from his pregnancy.

“Isn’t there more risk with them sharing a placenta? One may not get as much nutrients as the other?”

She looks at him tentatively, not answering him right away, as though she’s trying to think how best to use her words.

“Like I said, we’ll keep a closer eye on things. Increase the frequency of your appointments. As for the morning sickness, I have purchased a prescription under my name, and have brought it with me.”

“…Thank you. I would still like to know the other risks with twins.”

She looks over at Alana, and the smell of her cozy fireplace pheromones start to fill the room, causing Will to relax further.

“The increased risk really isn’t much, so please don’t stress over this. You’ll be more likely develop preeclampsia, placental abruption, gestational diabetes, low birth weight, birth defects, and premature labor. But again, all three of you will likely be alright.”

“I appreciate the concern for my stress levels,” he says, eyeing Alana suspecting she’d told the midwife about his mental health history. “I just like to be armed with as much knowledge as possible, having all the facts eases my anxiety.”

“I was the same way Will,” says Alana, taking his hand.

“Can…can I get a recording of this ultrasound?”

“Of course, the machine automatically records so you just have to download it onto a flash drive.”

A few more questions and answers, the midwife downloads the ultrasound recording, cleans Will’s belly of the cold gel, and then she leaves. Now, as Alana sits beside him on the bed, Will heavily inhales her scent, as he can feel himself start to become overwhelmed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Overwhelmed to say the least.”

“Will…I know you want to do this on your own after the delivery but-“

“Please Alana, don’t.”

“It’s just…things were already going to be hard. You know they’ll want for nothing if you stay with us.”

“It’s not just about protecting them from Lecter in the literal sense. Everyone knows who he and I are in this state and most of the country. I don’t want anyone to know that the Chesapeake Ripper had children. Ever. Our- _my_ pups deserve to have a semblance of a normal childhood, and they won’t have that if people know who their father is. Freddie Lounds has been sniffing around for me, imagine the book she’d write if she knew about them.”

His hand protectively cups his womb, with a low snarl at the thought of that red-headed bitch writing a single word about his children. Alana releases more of her scent, but there’s only so much it can do to calm him.

“…It’s not that raising them here as a chosen pack with you and Margot isn’t appealing. I’ve thought about it, but…this isn’t me. You know how I like my solitude, and I couldn’t ask you to make a pariah of your wife and son”

“Will…”

“I’m not casting you out, you’ll still be part of our lives.”

She huffs a bit, then gently presses her forehead to his.

“…Okay. I respect your choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I hope you enjoyed this new chapter my fellow fannibals! If you're interested in being a beta reader, feel free to ask! There can never be too many!**
> 
> **Please leave comments, I love to know your thoughts and it gives me much encouragement to continue writing! Keeps me on course!**
> 
> **The next chapter will continue where chapter one left off, with the twins as teens!**


	4. Chapter Three: Mama's Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Will Graham now known as Chris Starling awakes in his remote cabin in the woods to find his twin daughters are not safe in their beds.**
> 
> *****CONTENT WARNING***  
> **   
>  **This chapter contains life threatening violence toward children.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you once again to VirgiliaCoriolanus for being such an awesome beta-reader!**
> 
> **I thought I'd share with you all the music playlist I've made for listening for when I'm writing this little fanfic. The genres of music aren't consistent, and the tone can jump wildly depending on what part of the list is playing. It's mostly arranged to correspond with specific story beats or for specific characters' arch.**
> 
> **This chapter and chapter one I listened to the "The Elephant Graveyard" from The Lion King Soundtrack on repeat. I'm sure you can deduce why. ;)**
> 
> **https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLbQl-fbXnUfiLXONQHVjNp1S_rX2y6jGi**

June 18th, 2009

 

Naubinway, Michigan

 

12: 47 am

 

Will woke up to the distant noise of a car honking and low bark ~~s~~ from the family dogs in the other room. He moaned, rubbing the sleep from his blue eyes in frustration. They’ve got some decent crow’s feet and his brunette hair is highlighted with gray now that he’s treading close to fifty years old. A full-fledged, grizzly beard covers the bottom half of his face.

 

“Fucking tourist trolls,” he murmurs.

 

Trolls is a local term for tourist that come from below the Mackinac bridge that connects the peninsula to the mitten of Michigan. For a while Will had been referred to as a troll, till eventually he and his daughters were recognized as locals too. He didn’t go by Will anymore; his legal name was now Christopher Starling.

 

More honking blared from down the road and into the house, so Will gave up going back to sleep and climbed out of his king size bed.  

 

“God I can’t wait till the summer ends,” he moaned, stepping out into the living room and to the kitchen.

 

He took a clean glass out of the dishwasher and poured himself some water from the kitchen faucet. Just as he was about to touch his lips to the rim, a sudden thunderous crash shuddered through the air. Oh. Great. The trolls went and crashed themselves into a tree he deduced. He exhaled a sigh, deciding he should go out and make sure they’re alright. Even if they did wake him. Well, least they haven’t woken his pups.

 

So he thought.

 

He sipped his glass of water, then went to the bathroom and quickly sprayed himself with a special cologne that vaporized his omega pheromones and disguised them with a bland, vanilla beta scent. Back to the living room, he slipped on his shoes and put his coat on over his robe, however just as he’s about to go out the door he stopped himself. Better let the twins know he’s stepping out for a second, in case they wake up and find him gone.

 

When he opened the door to Mischa’s room and saw she was not there he didn’t think anything of it, as they still occasionally share the same bed. Something he treasured, as he knew that though they were on the cusp of puberty, they are still children, in need of childish comforts. He went to Clarice’s room and opened the door, quickly blinking in confusion as he could not see either of them in her bed. His heartbeat quickened. He flew from room to room of the house, hoping the fear he felt in his heart was unfounded, and then the wrap around porch outside.

 

“Girls,” he called out, into the night.

 

Nothing. The next second his phone rings in his pocket, he nearly dropped it as he took it out, and saw that the caller ID said it was Mischa calling. He answered before it could ring a second time.

 

“Mischa!?”

 

“Mama! Mama, I’m so sorry!”

 

The panicked pitch of her voice raised every follicle of hair on his body.

 

“Where are you!? Is Clarice with you?”

 

“We’re down the road toward the beach, I think close to Molly’s house?”

 

“Tell me what happened, I’m coming to get you,” he said, as he grabbed his car keys and marched towards the door.

 

“Some drunk boys ran us off the road with their truck! Then one of them attacked us! I think it caused Clarice to rut!? She’s fighting the guy off, but I can’t see them!”

 

He stopped in his tracks. _Fuck._ Then turned around back to the bathroom, and threw open the cupboard, making a mess by pushing all other contents inside to find the ARN. Alpha Rut Neutralizer, a drug designed to do exactly as its name entails. It came in a slender case, very akin to an EpiPen. Will has had a few on hand for the past several years in case he must deal with an angry, rutting Alpha or if one of his pups presents as an Alpha. Of course, the fates decided both would happen at once! He snatched two, then one more just in case he loses or breaks one before he can use it.

 

“Where are the other boys, you said there was more than one.”

 

The last thing he grabbed on his way out is his shotgun.

 

“They were knocked out in the crash.”

 

“Have you called 911?”

 

He unlocks then jumps into his car and is down the road at well over the speed limit.

 

“N-no, I called you first.”

 

“Ok, I’m going to hang up and call the sheriff. Stay quiet and out of sight. I’m going to be there any second ok baby?”

 

“Yes Mama,” she whimpered.

 

It killed him to hang up on her, but he had to call the cops. He dials 911, cursing at them every second they haven’t picked up.

 

“911, what is your emergency?”

 

“This is Chris Starling. My daughter just called me, there’s been an accident. Drunk driver. From what I know there are at least five people total involved, both my daughters included. And a rutting alpha is attacking them.”

 

“What is your location?”

 

“Black River Road, Naubinway. A few miles up from the coast.”

 

“Alright, the closest patrol car is twenty miles away. Please wait for them to-“

 

Will hung up before the operator could finish. He’s not waiting for practiced platitudes when he’s right down the road from his pups being attacked by a drunk and rutting Alpha.

 

It’s only a few second after he’d ended the call, when he came upon the crashed truck. The headlights and inside lights were still glowing, lighting up the night. He stopped his car with a loud screech on the breaks, and stormed out of the car, shotgun in hand. A splash of relief washed over him when a white hand and a familiar mop of ash curls crawled out from under the truck.

 

“Mischa,” he shouted, rushing to her.

 

“Mama!”

 

She crashed into him and he held her tight with one arm. But he kept his eyes and ears alert to their surroundings.

 

“Where did you last see your sister?”

 

“She went up into the trees and Jake went after her.”

 

There is a roar and the snapping of twigs from up in the branches above.

 

“Get in the car now, if something happens you are to drive as fast as you can away to the police, they’re on their way,” Will whispers into Mischa’s ear.

 

She tightened her fingers into his jacket, her breath trembling.

 

“Do as I say,” he says sternly, with a gentle push.

 

She runs to the driver’s seat of the car and shut the door. Good girl. Another roar echoed through the trees and then an answering, higher pitched screech, likely Clarice followed the first roar. Will is happy to hear that she is alive, yet the animalistic screech unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. A shadow fell from up high and landed with a rough thud in the crashed truck’s back. Then another landed on the hood.

 

Will’s eyes widen at the sight of a feral creature that wore the skin of his daughter. She doesn’t seem to notice him, crouching down with a bleeding red eye and blown open pupils on the one who’d fallen into the truck. Foam and blood dripped from her bared fangs as she snarled. Just as Will was about to call out to her, she pounced on her opponent. He ran to the edge of the truck as he heard a mad wrestle of claws and teeth. When he reached the edge, he discovered Clarice no longer had the advantage, as she was pinned beneath a much larger and older Alpha.  His hands were wrapped around her throat. He smiled sadistically down at her as he began to squeeze.

 

Will growled and aimed his shotgun only inches away from the boy’s head.

 

“Boy you will release her, or so help me I will paint the forest with your brains,” Will ordered, his Louisiana droll slipping out in his barely contained rage.

 

The boy’s smile melted away at the threat of his head being blown off.

 

Clarice gasped as his grip around her throat was released, and her feral frenzy also seemed to dial back at the sound of her mother’s voice, as her pupils began to shrink. Alphas in rut can be calmed by the voices and scents of those they are close to; an evolutionary safety loophole that would not allow Alphas to harm the loved ones their instincts drove them to protect. Will, for the first time in over a decade wished he hadn’t used his cologne earlier, so he could further lull her rut down. He couldn’t use the ARN or at least scruff her or the other Alpha with his hands full like this.

 

“Hands behind your head and _slowly_ get off her,” he ordered, still pointing the gun firmly at the young Alpha.

 

The Alpha laced his fingers together on the back of his head, and carefully climbed off Clarice with his knees. She on the other hand, while somewhat calmed, glared up at him with pure loathing and _hunger_.

Another snarl escaped her lips. A hunger Will recognized.

 

“Clarice. Do _not_ attack him. Stay down.”

 

“Grrrrr,” she growled.

 

“Clarice! I know you want to hurt him bu-“

 

“I want to kill him,” she snapped, licking at the blood on her canines.

 

Will is doing his damndest to not show how disturbed he is to hear his daughter so bloodthirsty, even though logically he knows her feelings are understandable. Especially given the circumstances of her very first rut. But…no, he will not think about it now. He needs to keep focused on the situation at hand.

 

“Clarice, take a deep breath,” he says, with his eyes still fixed on the standing Alpha, ready to pull the trigger should he make any sudden movements.

 

She inhaled sharply and trembled as she slowly exhaled, like she was breathing broken glass. Yet the dilation in her eyes lessened further, and their red color faded just a touch.

 

“Now keep breathing and stay still baby. Mischa!”

 

Mischa cracked the car door open.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I need you to come over here and take out two ARN pen out of my pocket.”

 

She stepped out of the car, coming up from behind and took out two pens from his coat pocket.

 

“Open the back of the truck’s cargo bed for Clarice. Don’t be afraid, she won’t hurt you. Right Clarice?”

 

She shook her head, still taking deep breaths to remain calm. Mischa opened the cargo’s back as she was told.

 

“Clarice sit up, and back forward into your sister.”

 

She did, using her legs to scoot backward till she’s against Mischa, who wrapped an arm over her shoulders.

 

“Inject the ARN in her thigh.”

 

Clarice took ahold of her sister’s arm wrapped around her, and Will nodded reassuringly at his daughter to go ahead. Mischa positioned herself at a better angle, and swiftly brings the pen down, injecting her twin.

 

“Aap,” Clarice yelped, as the needle went through her jeans and into her skin.

 

The red in her eyes fade and fade till they’ve returned to their usual blue color. Her eyelids go heavy, and her breathing begins to deepen on its own accord. An Alpha being chemically forced out of a rut is like coming down a cocaine high and often results in them passing out. It’s a wonder how she hasn’t.

 

“Good. Slide the other pen over to him and take your sister back to the car.”

 

She places the pen on the floor of the cargo bed and shoves it, so it slid next to the Alpha boy’s knee. Then she helped Clarice out of the truck, supporting her limping body to the car. Will stepped over to the back of the cargo bed, eyes narrowed at the Alpha boy with his hands still clasped behind his head and on his knees.

 

“Take the pen boy.”

 

The boy smiled smugly as he lets go of his hands, and slowly picked up the pen.

 

“Was it just me, or did Mischa call you mama earlier?”

 

Will doesn’t show his surprise that the boy heard her say that when he’d arrived on the scene.

 

“You’re mistaken, I’m their father. Inject now.”

 

“Funny, cause it she did. That would make you an omega wouldn’t it?”

 

“Inject.”

 

“An omega raising pups all alone in the middle of nowhere, that sure would be risky.”

 

“Boy I will-“

 

“Ok! Ok! I am!”

 

He stabbed the pen into his thigh, still smiling as his rutted red eyes fade to green and then slumped over hard as he passes out. Will holds his gun for a good thirty seconds, searching for any sign the boy hadn’t injected himself and was just faking it. He should be out for a couple hours at least, Will knew logically. Alpha’s that could come down from their ruts at will were rare, and logically of course this teenager didn’t have that skill. It took years of training and discipline; Will only knew of one Alpha that could do it in mere seconds. Still, Will had become a touch overly cautious since the twins were born.

 

He stepped over to the side of the cargo bed, lowered his shotgun, and put his fingers to the boy’s pulse.

 

Yeah, he was out. Will sighed with relief and turned his head to the other two unconscious boys inside the trucks. Upon the doors he finds two unconscious Alpha teenage boys; one had clearly hit his head on the windshield given the bloody spiderweb cracks in the glass and his bloody skull. No seat belt either. The other boy he recognized as Danny, his nose was bloody but didn’t look like he got it from impact with the dashboard or windshield. He was also lying backward against the other kid, instead of the seat.

 

The pendulum unconsciously swings in Will’s mind, just once but it’s enough for him to know what happened after the crash. Danny had tried to stop the driver from going after the girls after the crash and got socked hard in the face for it. Then one more time to knock him out. Will is somewhat appreciative the boy tried to do the right thing, but given he’d let his drunk friend get behind the wheel in the first place he’s not exactly ready to forgive.

 

Will stayed by the truck, keeping an eye on all three boys as he waits for the police and ambulance to show up. It’s a solid ten minutes before their emergency sirens are finally heard from the distance. Will discreetly put away his shotgun in the trunk of his car just as they pull up. He recognizes the officers as they step out of their patrol car, and they recognize him.

 

“Starling,”

 

“Officers,” he says, not meeting their eyes.

 

“Gotta call about a DUI and a ruttin’ alpha.”

 

“The alpha has been subdued, I persuaded him to take an ARN.”

 

The officers give each other a look of disbelief and then back at Will, as though he were joking. So he gestured behind him to the truck where the blonde Alpha still laid unconscious. It took good few patient and careful words to explain to them exactly what happened. Along with the physical evidence of two unconscious alphas and the word of Mischa as a witness to it all. Though the cops had an even harder time believing that a freshly presented female Alpha managed to survive a brawl with a larger and older male Alpha. Ah the prick of sexism toward even Alpha women.

 

Before the paramedics examined Clarice or the boy Jake (as Mischa explained was his name), the cops were careful to cuff wrists and ankles together. A common law-enforcement precaution in dealing with a recently rutted Alpha, just in case they had metabolisms that could burn through the effects of ARNs.

 

“Damn, she really did him good for a lady Alpha,” a paramedic said, as he bandaged Jake’s bitten off earlobe.

 

The knocked-out Alpha had a busted lips, a missing tooth, and many claw marks along his neck to face. Will might have beamed with pride upon the sight of the brute’s various injuries inflicted by his pup, if not for the sight of the injuries inflicted on her.

 

For the other paramedic was busy stitching the bleeding claw wounds drawn from her right temple all the way to the back of her scalp, so deep he could see her skull. She was quiet as the needle and wire threaded through her torn flesh, the anesthetic and ARN in her system leaving her barely awake. Will fists clenched at the same time his heart broke to see her like this, thankful he’d gotten there before Jake killed her and cursed himself for not getting there sooner to spare her the damage done. Besides her scalp, she also had a swollen black eye and strangulation handprints on her throat.

 

Mischa’s injuries were thankfully much more superficial, scratches from tree branches on her face that wouldn’t scar, a sprained wrist she’d fallen on, and one crescent moon shaped cut toward just off the center of her forehead. That one may very well scar. She held onto her twin’s hand tightly as they were tended to.

 

Danny was roused from unconsciousness when he was pulled from inside the truck and onto a stretcher. After his initial shock and alarm, his head snapped around till he saw Mischa.

 

“Mischa! Thank God you’re ok!”

 

She tilted her head and just stared at him blankly. Will wondered what she must be thinking, he remembered she’d always had liked him.

 

“I tried to stop him! I-“

 

The dark-haired boy stopped as her stare seemed to unsettle him, maybe realizing it was useless to keep talking. That was when Will detected an unusual coldness emanating from his usually warm and sweet daughter. Danny looked away from her, as he was wheeled into the ambulance.

 

The other boy remained knocked out, as he was put in the ambulance after Danny.

 

Once all of Jake’s injuries were accounted for and patched up, the police cuffed him and put him in the back of their patrol car. He never stirred from the ARN, much to everyone’s relief.

 

Will stayed practically glued to Mischa’s side as an officer asked her questions about the events of the night, both to make sure they didn’t try to trick her into saying anything incriminating, and to get answers himself. Taking it all in was…a lot to say the least. His twins hadn’t gone out looking for trouble, but it’d certainly found them. He absorbed it all quietly, without a thread of emotion showing the whole time.

 

When all the questions were over, the officers spoke to Will as he guided his girls into the back of the car.

 

“You and your girls are good to go home Starling. We’ll come by tomorrow for Clarice’s statement, since she’s too out of it to answer questions.”

 

“Alright,” he replied tiredly, as he shut the backseat door and climbed into the driver seat.

 

Still grumpy and anti-social as ever.

 

He doesn’t even look at the cop as he drives off back to his cabin. The ride home is eerily quite as he just focuses on the road ahead, his grip on the steering wheel is like iron. Till Mischa’s voice cracks through the tension.

 

“M-mama,” she chirped, with her arm slung over Clarice as she slept against her.

 

“Don’t,” his voice cut through harshly, not even looking at her.

 

She flinched at the sharpness in his tone.

 

“I am far too upset to talk right now. When we get home, you are to go straight to bed. But believe me, we will talk about this tomorrow.”

 

Mischa does not speak again, but Will can see guilty tears well up in her eyes as she nuzzles Clarice into her neck. He curls his lips into his mouth and shakes his head, shaming himself for being so cold to his traumatized child and yet still would like to yell at how reckless they’d been. What were they thinking sneaking out for a swim!? They were lucky to be alive-no! No! Like he would hold it all in till his pups were safe in their beds.

 

Upon arriving home Will gathered Clarice in his arms and carried her all the way to her bed. He shushed the dogs as they whined in distress at the smell of two of their masters’ blood. Mischa followed, helping her mother undress her once she was propped on the bed. Together they slipped on a nightgown over her damp bathing suit and managed to carefully slip it off her, without revealing an inch of nudity.

 

Clarice murmured confused and apologetic nothings in her sleep haze, as she fell backwards into her pillow. Will ran his fingers through her hair for a second, grimacing at the sight of her blood smeared in the dark gold strands.

 

“…Goodnight,” he said shortly, as he stood and left the bedroom.

 

He knew Mischa would want to sleep alongside her twin after their trying evening, and he would not stop her. Even allowed Artemis and Apollo into the bedroom as he stepped out.

 

As the door clicks shut, he nearly collapsed onto his knees as all the emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel came crashing into him.

 

Whiskey.

 

 He needs whiskey now.

 

Anything to make the terror of nearly losing his daughters disappear for a few hours.

 

Anything to keep himself from thinking how much Clarice wanted to kill that Alpha boy.

 

And how much that reminded him...of Hannibal.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **It's occurred to me that I have not described the specific scents of some key characters yet, and I need to fix that. So some rewrites here and there will be happening with all already existing chapters soon.**
> 
> **I am really happy with the scent I choose for Alana, it perfectly encapsulates her characterization for me. Meant to describe Margot's scent with something complimentary, something people typically like to eat/drink by the fireplace. Any suggestions?**
> 
> **But I'm not so happy with Hannibal oranges and blood smell, just cause I've read so many a/b/o that picked a similar scent. Which is also why I haven't given Will a scent at all yet, cause I want them to compliment. Blood and chocolate is too obvious too. ;P**
> 
> **I do have a scent picked out for Mischa! Ever had salted popcorn covered with white chocolate? It's the perfect blend of salty and sweet.**
> 
> **Generally I want to stick to loose guidelines that omega's tend to smell sweet/savory and alpha's smell musky/bitter/spicy. But individuals can have combination scents like I did with Mischa, she has the omega sweetness with a bit of saltiness. :3**
> 
> **All betas have a bland vanilla scent, cause I'm not subtle. ;)**
> 
> **So seriously, if you have any ideas for the following character's scents...**
> 
> **Will  
> **  
>  Margot  
> Hannibal  
> Clarice  
> Molly (yes she will be in the story soon)


	5. Loyalty & Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana is grappling with what is the best options for Will in order for him to carry his twins to term. Then fucking Freddie Lounds pays an unexpected visit, with the revelation she knows things she shouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter hasn't been beta-read, as my usual beta reader needed a break. It will be updated with corrections and additions to the text in time.**
> 
> **If you're interested in being an additional beta-reader for me, please say so in a comment and we can exchange emails!**

November 17th, 1994

The Verger Estate

9am

Alana stares down at the ornate phone before her in the butler’s office, contemplating what she’s about to do and how to best do it. Along with questioning if she should do it at all. Her dearest friend Will hasn’t gotten much better in the last few weeks since the doctor had prescribed him medication for his morning sickness. After some trial and error with the third new medication it had finally become manageable, but not gone entirely. But still his health hadn’t improved much, he barely slept due to nightmares and at times Alana wondered if he hallucinated with how his eyes would fixate on empty spaces. His appetite was better and he could keep down most meals but yet his appetite itself hadn’t improved. No doubt a symptom of stress and depression.

She’d done everything her immense wealth could do for him, the best doctor with all the discretion and demeanor suited for him. Best prenatal vitamins. Every time they’re in a room together she embraced him in her alpha scent much like Margot had done for her when she was pregnant with Morgan. Will had every luxury available to him, but it simply wasn’t enough or wouldn’t be, not in the long term.

Solemnly she takes the phone and dials directly to Dr. Chilton’s office, informing the receptionist who she is so there is no waiting to speak to the weasel.

“Dr. Bloom! What a pleasant surprise to hear from you!”

“Hello Chilton.”

“What pray tell has you calling me?”

“I wish to speak to Hannibal Lecter, privately with no one listening.”

“My, my. That is a rather lofty request.”

“I’ll write a forward in the book you’re writing.”

“How generous of you, it’ll be just a few before he’s on the line for you.”

It’s just as he says before finally the chilling sound of Hannibal’s Lithuanian accent whispers from the phone.

“Hello Alana, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hannibal, I’m calling on Will’s behalf though he doesn’t know I am.”

“Interesting, it must be quit serious that you’d go behind his back.”

“It is serious…it’s his health.”

Hannibal remains silent on the other end and Alana ponders what he could possibly be thinking. Then she decides she’s not going to be wait for a response.

“On top of stressing over you, the pregnancy is proving to be more difficult than anticipated.”

“Stressing over me?”

“Don’t play with me Hannibal, of course Will is upset over you starving yourself.”  
“How would I to know? I have felt nothing on his end of our bond sense I was arrested.”

“Why do you think Chilton hasn’t tried force feeding you again?”  
“To prevent me from taking another bite out of the staff?” he said, with an amused tone.

“That, and because he doesn’t want you abused. You’re still his mate.”

“Yet he’s clearly trying to go through the painful process of breaking our mated bond.”

“…Yes he us,” she says, lowly.

Despite what ancient myths may say about mated bonds, they in fact could be broken. The first step is closing off the empathetic connection, then physical separation, and avoidance of anything with their scent. It takes a year minimal for it to be completely severed and only then can all parties of the broken bond be in proximity of each other again. Most bonds, especially during messy divorces involving children take a few years. To say the emotional toll of such a process is painful would be an understatement. Trying to go through it during a pregnancy? On top of coping with something as traumatic as having a cannibal serial killer for a mate? Unheard of.

“Is his health truly so dire?”

“He had awful morning sickness for a while, we finally got it under control…but.”

“His imagination making it difficult to sleep? Perhaps haunting him even when he’s awake?”

“…Yes.”  
“What is it you think I can do for him?”  
“I’m…I’m going to try and convince him postponing the divorce, least till after he’s given birth.”

“You would persuade him to be under my influence again?”

“No I would persuade him to survive this pregnancy. For his sake, not yours.”

“You are truly a most devoted and loyal person Alana, there is nothing you wouldn’t do for your loved ones.”

“Can I count on you to look better after yourself so there’s one less thing for Will to worry about, and your bond can properly support him?”  
“I promise to do everything Will allows me to do for him and I always keep my promises.”

“I’m well aware…Thank you.”

“For his sake, not yours.”

“…Goodbye,” she said, and with a click she hung up the phone.

A shaky exhale escapes her bright red lips, wondering if she’s doing the right thing. But what else could she do? At the rate Will’s health was at…if he miscarried after everything he’s already been through she knew it would destroy him.

Her train of thought is suddenly interrupted by the entrance of the household butler, his face looking apologetic to her.

“Forgive me Madam, Miss Lounds is here once again.”

“Why haven’t you thrown her out?”  
“I was going to but she uh, said something she shouldn’t know.”

“Which is?”

“She asked how Mr. Graham’s pregnancy is coming along.”

Alana blinks and sucks in an angry breath through her nose, they’d all been so careful and that poor excuse for a journalist had found out anyway.

“Take her to the study, Will and I will speak to her in a bit. I’m going to make her wait.”

“Very well mam,” he says, stepping out to do as she says.

While Alana went to the west wing of the mansion, where Will’s bedroom lie. She found him still in bed, lying in a nest like arrangement of many blankets, and with all seven of his dogs snuggled on top. The golden red dog Winston in particular had his head on his swollen stomach, as his floppy ears were stroked. On the nightstand was breakfast, the toast with a visible few bites in it. The room filled with the smell of dog and the omega’s bittersweet scent of pomegranate. Will himself lay his head flat on his pillow, staring with half-lidded eyes at the ceiling and his other hand cupping the side of his belly. 

“Any luck with sleep,” she asked, gentley.

He turned his face with a faint smile and she tried not to show her concern at the sight of the heavy bags under his eyes. Yet seeing him smile is a welcome changed.

“I think I felt them move?”

Alana smiles and comes to sit beside him on the bed, her hand feels along the starting swell of his stomach. It’s enough to show just enough to give away he’s pregnant if someone’s really paying attention but could also be hidden with the right clothes.

“It’s a bit early isn’t it,” he asks.

“It’s not unheard of to feel movement at 13 weeks,” she says, and a low alpha purr vibrates through her.

 With the permission and approval of her wife Margot, she’d agreed to give all the support omega Will would need through his pregnancy that normally a mate would provide. Her scent. Her touch. All the emotional support he’d let her give. But Will is mated, and therefore his very body and mind craves the support of his mate. An empathic bond that isn’t quit telepathy but connects people together like not other where both weakness can be less burdened and strength borrowed. The only way Alana could possibly satiate that need herself is if they bonded, which while possible to have multiple mates is not the relationship her and Will have or want. There was plenty of love between them, more than plenty in fact but not that kind. Maybe once it could’ve been if circumstances had been different.

“You love kids so much Alana,” he sighs, enjoying the soothing sounds of her purr.

“I specialized in child and family psychiatry for a reason.”

“Why didn’t you have them sooner?”

“Alpha’s are expected to rule the world rather than nurture it, even alpha women. Well least for alpha cis women. Especially since we’re less fertile than beta or omegas with uteruses…I’m seen as both lesser and better in that regard.”

“Alana…”

“No, no I don’t see myself that way.”

“Still, you are among the better of women, alphas, and people all round I’ve ever known.”

Her eyes water a bit, though she doesn’t allow them to welp to the point of tears as she clasps her hand over his.

“I’m…I’m sorry Will, I haven’t been able to protect you as an alpha should.”

“What? Where’s that coming from?”

“It’s Freddie Lounds…she’s found out about your pregnancy Will.”

His blue eyes go icy and blank as they blink, the faint smile disappears. His pomegranate scent becoming less sweet and more bitter. Almost sour, like fruit going bad. A sign he’s becoming distressed and angered as Alana is familiar with.

“I don’t believe she’s put it in any of it in Tattle Tale Magazine, not yet anyway as I’ve kept an eye on it’s publications. I believe she wants something else from you. She’s waiting to speak to us in the study…”

His head resigns back to the pillow as he stares back up at the ceiling, drifting somewhere far from her in his mind.

“…I know what she wants,” he sighs.

He continues to stare off for several silent seconds.

“Will,” Alana whispers, frightened of where dark depths he may be wondering in.

“…Let’s get this over with,” he breaths, his voice low with exhaustion and anger.

Alana helps him put on a robe and they leave his bedroom for the study, where Freddie was waiting not having taken a seat and still standing. Her sweet omega scent of roses pricks the air like thorns. The butler is standing at attention in the corner, his eyes on her like a hawk.

It’s a rare thing for an unmated and working omega to not disguise their natural scent. Only recently had it become illegal to turn down omega’s from jobs or other institutional opportunities like college, but that didn’t stop employers from finding any other reason from turning them down. Out and open omegas tended to only be able to get jobs in sex work. Freddie had created her TattleCrimes magazine from the ground up on her own, however poor excuse for journalism it may be it was still impressive for an omega to accomplish given the systematic discriminations against them.

She greets them with a sly smile with her green eyes lingering on Will’s belly as he takes a seat by Alana.

“Hello Will, you look-“

“Like shit, I know. What do you know, how do you know, and what do you want?”

Alana just sits back and let’s Will do the talking for now, ready to take the reigns should he need. Her blue eyes on Freddie intently, with

“Well, a rather chatty orderly that works at the same hospital where your husband is being held ran into me at a bar. Mentioned an omega visiting their spouse and what they said to each other.”

“How much do you want?” asks Alana, impulsively.

Will shakes his head to her and snides,” money isn’t what she’s after…no what you want Freddie is fame.”

“I’m an ambitious woman, as I’m sure you can understand and appreciate,” she says, looking at Alana and not Will.

The alpha hides any sign she knows what the redheaded omega is referring to. Specifically the circumstances and results of her son Morgan’s parentage, nothing no one could prove but plenty could draw conclusions.

“Readers love a romantic tragedy,” Freddie explains.

“And you want exclusive rights to my tragedy,” droll Will.

“From both you and Hannibal.”

“And in exchange?”

“I’ll fail to mention you’re expecting. Maybe suggest you can’t have children at all so people won’t suspect.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“Oh?”

“You’re going to donate a percentage of all profits you make off any work you write about Hannibal and me to the victims’ families. Should any accept. You can insinuate anything you want about Hannibal and me, but you leave my kids and anything your write about the victims with nothing but what respect you’re capable of.”

“I can insinuate anything about you two?”

“…It’s all yours Freddie, after my lawyer and I draw up a proper legally binding contract.”

Her eyes light up, and her small smile is now drawn across her face wide.

“Of course,” she chimes.

“You are dismissed now, Miss Lounds. Jefferson, please escort her out.” Alana says, resisting the urge to wave her fingers. Her nose twitches when she catches the faint scent of cinnamon scotch and pup approaching, Margot and Morgan are home.

“Yes madam,” he said, stepping forward.

Just as Freddie is walking her way out with Jefferson on her heels, Margot with little Morgan in her arms walks past them. Her jade green eyes dart from Freddie to Alana, and but her expression is pure steel. Internally Alana felt her omega open her anxiety to her through their bond. A clear but unspoken feeling of _the fuck is Freddie Lounds doing in our home?_

It’s generally not a good idea for mates to leave their bond open for the other to feel twenty-four-seven, best used for intimate moments, when in great need for support, and to communicate when words aren’t appropriate or available. Feeling the emotions of a whole other person on top of your own can break a person as much as heal them.

Alana releases her comforting scent for both omegas in the room, while tugging at her connection to her mate with reassurance everything is fine. Will surely can tell what Margot’s true feelings are beneath her pillar of strength due to his own great capacity for empathy. He stands up before Alana, and goes to Margot with pleading apologetic eyes.

“She was here for me, and it’s taken care of.”

Margot nods her head as she holds Morgan to her more tightly, nuzzling the toddler’s face under chin and kissing the top of his head.

“I’d like to talk to my mate alone,” she says, not looking at him but at Alana.

He nods and look back at the alpha before walking out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” he mouths, as he steps out back for his room.

Alana stand up and strides to Margot, embracing both her and their son trying to cover them in as much as she can. Their scents mingle together perfectly and wash out all others that had just been lingering. Morgan is fast asleep between them.

“You weren’t trying to hide Miss Lounds from me were you,” Margot asks, deeply inhaling her alpha’s burning apple and oak scent. Her anxiety is lulling though still lingers as she spoke.

Alana knows well that Margot doesn’t actually suspect her of trying to hide things from her, she just needs the reassurance.

“No love, she showed up unexpectedly. I was going to tell you right away. You just showed up before I could explain.”

She pets through her mate’s auburn wavy hair and rubs circles on her back. Careful not to touch her nape, as while that would near instantly relax her is a spot Margot has made clear never to be touched unless explicitly asked. And Alana would never dare violate her omega’s autonomy, she vowed years ago she’d never let anyone and especially not herself do that to Margot. Never again.

“I take it she found something out?”

“…Yes, but like Will said she was here for him and it’s taken care of, he’s made a deal with her,” she assures.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, anything Freddie might know about _us_ is just the same rumors made before. Nothing I-we can’t handle.”

The Alpha takes the omega by the cheek and gives her a long deep kiss. Pouring through it all the love and strength she had through her lips. Saying over and over through her thoughts and touch. _You’re safe. Morgan is safe. I’ll do anything and everything to keep our family safe._

“Can you handle all this, you’re doing so much for everyone,” Margot sighs breaking their kiss.

“I can do anything with you at my side,” she whispers, and pulls her in for another kiss.

Through their bond Alana feels her mate’s answering emotions, _I too can do anything with you at my side. I love you._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I hope you all enjoyed the change in perspective, I know I did as I love Alana Bloom to death and don't see many writers on here write through her POV often. She is my Bisexual Queen!**
> 
> **I adore Margot and Alana too, I'm forever salty we didn't get to see more of these amazing Power Lesbians in a 4th season. I'm considering writing a fluffy series of oneshots of their relationship as it takes place within this fanfic's universe. Wouldn't be much of a canon divergence but I'd really like to explore their dynamic within my take on A/B/O.**
> 
> **This fanfic is becoming a bit of an experiment with story structure and perspective for me, least in a way I haven't done before. There's going to be a POV through Abigail at some point too. ;) Maybe within the next three chapters.**
> 
> **As you can see, I've made some choices in regards to Margot, Will, and Freddie's omegan scents. Tell me what you think of them and try to guess why I picked what for which character. :3 I love talking to you all about this stuff!**


	6. Chapter 5: Puberty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning after Mischa and Clarice's night of danger...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hey everyone! I'm so sorry it took me so long to finally post this chapter. Even more sorry to have to tell you all I'm not sure when the next one will be up, expect a long wait. :( I wasn't working when I started this fic, and now work close to full time. When I'm not working, I'm taking care of the house, or I'm sucked into other writing projects.**
> 
> **Thanks again to VirgiliaCoriolanus for beta reading and editing notes!**

June 18th, 2009

Naubinway, Michigan

8:33am

Mischa was the first to wake that morning **.** **S** he hardly slept at all, as last night’s traumatic events made it more than difficult to slumber. Her twin Clarice was still fast asleep as she laid beside her, their identical faces only inches apart. There was a scent in the room, the distinct scent of dog but even more so than usual in their home. It was muskier than normal. It took Mischa a second to realize…the scent is Clarice; her new Alpha scent. 

The non-alpha twin carefully sat up, rousing the two large wolf-dogs Apollo and Artemis that lay tangled in the bed with them. She rubbed and kissed the top of their heads, before motioning for them to get off the bed with her. When her feet touched the floor, she wobbled a bit **,** finding herself feeling a bit flushed and cool yet sweaty. She shook it off before taking another step.

“Come on you two,” she said, as she tiptoed out of the room.

Out in the living room she found her mother asleep **,** slumped on the couch with the dog Hera’s head on his lap, and an empty whiskey glass loose in his hand. 

“Oh Mama,” she murmured, sadly. 

Mischa rarely saw Will drink. On the rare occasions he drank, it was after a very stressful event and only when he thought the twins were in bed. She waves the other dogs, including Hera, over to go outside. At her unspoken command **,** the black German shepherd carefully crawled off Will and joined them outside. The omega thankfully remained asleep, as his pup slipped into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee for him. She considers making a whole breakfast too but thought better of it. It may have come across as a manipulative ploy for mercy for last night. So just coffee to wake mom up. When the pot is steaming Will is finally roused by the smell of fresh coffee in the air. 

He turned his tired blue eyes over at Mischa, and she was thankful to see that they were not filled with ice but softness. Like he was relieved to see her. 

“You mind making me a cup?” 

She smiled and shook her head, quickly getting a mug from the cabinet above the pot and took out a special mug. It’s one she had painted and decorated when she was very little, with the word _Mama_ crudely misspelled. Mischa may not have made a whole breakfast, but this mug will touch Will more subtly and deeper than even the best bacon. She made his coffee just the way he liked it and brought it to him, careful not to spill. 

Will eyed the cup with a single raised brow, and she realized her move had not gone unnoticed in the slightest **,** even in his half-awake state. 

“Your sister still asleep?”

“Yes…she smells different. Like a dog.”

He chuckled,” You know scent changes after presenting.”

“I know…still it’s different. She’s different…her being Alpha and me not presenting with her means…”

Twins or any siblings close in age tend to present very closely together. When they’re the same second gender, they present almost instantaneously. Especially two or more Alphas. A stress induced rut like Clarice went through last night would’ve caused a rut in Mischa if she were Alpha too. Even with identical DNA gender proves to be something far more complex than simply biological.

“You’re most likely going to present as omega,” he replied softly, before taking a sip of his coffee.

She **s** at down, not quite beside him, leaving a good couple feet between them. Her were eyes to floor, not looking at him. 

“Does that bother you?”

“It’s…not that I think being omega is bad…”

“Tell me sweetie, don’t hold back. Nothing you say will offend me,” he said, taking her gently by the chin so they faced each other directly.

“I...I was so helpless. I couldn’t do anything but hide.”

He quickly shook his head and took her hand. 

“You did everything right, you’re alive.”

“Only because of Clarice,” she sighed.

“That’s not true!”

Like a summoning, the Alpha twin stepped out of her bedroom, looking directly at Mischa and Will with a disapproving scowl. She marched right up to them, nearly tripping as she did.

“He was going to run me over and you stopped him! You got him to crash his car!”

Will face pained at Clarice’s outburst **,** but he hid it well with a big gulp of coffee. Clarice kneeled and took her twin’s free hand; her canine scent is releasing rapidly probably without her even realizing. While Mischa sat wide-eyed by the gesture.

“You protected me, just as I protected you.”

The omega’s pained expression dissolved into a warm and proud smile for his pups. He leaned over and caressed his fingers against Clarice’s cheek bone gently. At his touch **,** she looked up at him. 

“Why don’t you take a shower baby, I need to talk to Mischa. You and I will talk later.” 

She looks sad but nods and walks back down the hall to the bathroom. Will waited to hear the door close and the shower faucet running before continuing the discussion with Mischa.

“You heard her, you’re not weak,” he said, matter of factly.

“…I guess.”

“You don’t think I’m weak for being omega,” he stated, not asking.

“No. I just felt so powerless when it was all happening.”

He closed the space between them and wrapped an arm around her, kissing her forehead. She leaned into his firm, but gentle hold, nuzzling into his neck. 

“It’s ok to be afraid. Fear exists so you know there is danger. I guarantee you Clarice was scared too.”

 She feels a bit warm against him, and Will smelled her, like he’s detecting something is different about it. He smiled, but his eyes also water. 

“Were you scared?”

“Oh I was terrified, waking up to find my pups not safe in their beds and then that phone call.”

Will drinks another gulp of his coffee. 

“I’m sorry Mama,” she choked.

“I know…I’m…” he pulls her closer, “I’m not angry baby, I was but now that I’ve calmed down, I know it’s not going to do you, Clarice, or me any good. I think what you went through was lesson enough, I’m just grateful you’re both alive. In a way I’m even proud. You protected each other, you survived.”

Mischa gives a small laugh and cry, wiping her tears. Her mother kissed the top of her ashy curls.

“There, there. Can you tell me why you two snuck out? What brought that on?”

“Well…it was just fun, thrilling to be…”

“Getting away with something you know you shouldn’t be doing?”

“…Yeah,” she whispered, with a tint of guilt in her tone. “But also it was…nice to have something that was just ours.”

 “Do you feel closed off from the rest of the world,” he asked.

“No, I mean…I don’t know. I really don’t,” she murmured.

“Okay, it’s alright to not be sure about your feelings.”

Will rubbed her back and planted one more kiss on the top of her head, before finishing off his coffee. 

“How bout we make breakfast together eh?”

She smiled and nodded. It was a relief to not be pressed any further, since she didn’t really know how she felt about the events that led up to last night. They got up off the couch, let the dogs in, and then went into the kitchen. Will helped himself to another cup of coffee as they made some over easy eggs with bacon and toast **,** along with the dogs’ homemade food. Clarice joined in once she was out of the shower, as she was very particular about how the bacon was fried. 

Will didn’t bring up having a talk with Clarice again, not even after they finished eating. Instead, after their meal he headed to the shower, leaving Mischa and her to clean up the dishes. For a little bit there is some awkward silence between them as they perform their chore till Mischa says something.

“How are you feeling,” asks the Alpha, as she scrubbed egg yolk off a plate.

“Better, you? Do you feel different?”

“…I don’t know, I definitely felt different last night.” 

Mischa thought of how her sister’s blue eyes turned scarlet red, not just in the irises but even the whites of her eyes. She had fangs and her nails had grown razor sharp. Her voice was even altered, deep and bestial with words barely audible through snarls. 

“What…what was that like?”

Clarice paused at scrubbing the dishes, her blue eyes laced with fear.

“Like I was a wild animal. Out of control.”

“Mama got you to stop.”

“Barely, I was on the edge of doing it anyway,” she admitted, her voice shaky.

Mischa doesn’t know what to say to that, or how to feel. She doesn’t want her twin to be ashamed of her nature, as stress ruts are different. They’re not about desire, they’re about…well it depends on the Alpha. Jake had clearly had been enraged and just wanted to hurt the twins because he could. An exertion of power. Dominance upon who thought of as weak. That could never describe Clarice.

“I felt so helpless in my own body,” she exclaimed **,** her tone depressingly debilitated.

“You felt helpless?”

“Yeah.”

Mischa realized how she should respond **,** so she put the last dish in the washer, closed it, and then just hugged her sister. 

“Me too,” she whispered, resting her chin on her sister’s shoulder.

Clarice, for a second, just stood there with her arms hanging loose, before giving her sister a  teary eyed smile and hugged her back. 

“It’s ok to be scared,” Mischa stated, hoping their mother’s words will be just as comforting to the Alpha as they’d been for her. 

“Thanks Mischa.”

“You were protecting me, you’re not a monster. So what if you wanted to kill him, pretty sure he would’ve killed us if not for Mama.”

“Yeah but…what if…what if I’m like our dad?”

Mischa stiffened, while they didn’t know much about their father, but knew enough to speculate that he hurt and frightened their mother. The twins also looked more like their father. Maybe got their extra sixth fingers on their hands from him. 

“You’re not him. You’re more like Mom!”

“But I’m an Alpha like him.”

“Alpha isn’t the only part of you! And not all Alpha’s are bad!” 

“Clarice…,” warned Will, as he reentered the room, fully dressed with wet hair.

“Mama…”

He didn’t say anything, just strode over to her and held them both. 

“You are not your father, you are not your genetics. You did control yourself and that’s what matters.”

Clarice shook her head and tried to object.

“But what if I-“

“Every teenager has to learn how to manage their emotions, not just Alphas. Believe me Omegas can be scary when pissed off too. But if you’re really that scared of losing it, we’ll get you help, I’ve taught you there are ways to deal with this that’s healthy.”

“But-“

He took her chin and made her look up into his eyes. 

“You protected your sister and yourself. If you had killed that boy a court of law would have recognized it as self-defense.”

Before he can try to convince her of anymore, there was a knock at the front door. It was the police, there to take Clarice’s statement. Will reluctantly took the girls outside with him. He was not about to let the cops inside his house. Similar to the evening before **,** Will stayed right at Clarice side as she recounted what happened, careful not to mention how bloodthirsty being in rut made her, just gave all the facts. It was consistent with Mischa’s account and so the officers appeared to be satisfied with it.

Will told the twins to go back inside, and he walked the cops back to their car. They do go inside, but the twins also watch the exchange their mom has with the officers. Things don’t seem amiss, till they see Will laugh, something he didn’t typically do with anyone he wasn’t close with. He only acted overly friendly to put people at ease and when he wanted something from them, otherwise he was simply civil. Even patted one on the back as he turned back and walked to the house. 

When he was inside they choose to continue the day like any other, with the exception that Will decided to give them a day off from homeschool work. Mischa spent time practicing on the piano, of which she’d been playing since she was five years. She was able to play more notes at once, thanks to her extra fingers. She still felt oddly flushed as she did earlier that moment, sweating even though it wasn’t a particularly hot. Was she coming down with something? It was maybe an hour into practice when Will came from behind her, lightly with his hand on her shoulder as he sat beside her. 

“What’s up Mom?”

“You’re feeling weird right now, aren’t you?” he asked, dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth. 

Mischa nodded and sighed at how cool the cloth was against her skin, which seemed to be getting hotter.  

“You remember what I told you about heats? Well right now, you’re in preheat baby. You’ll be   in full heat by tonight most likely.”

“Oh!...oh yeah, I should’ve realized.”

“It tends to creep up the first time.”

“How did you know?”

“You smell sweeter than usual, like a flower, and I noticed how sweaty you’re getting.”

She blushed intensely, hiding her eyes with her hand.

“Well, I’m officially omega.”

“Yep, just like me,” he chimed as he kissed her head.

“So…should I take an OHN?”

Omega Heat Neutralizer was not all that different from ARN, and it was an incredible feat in medicine when it was invented. One that all omegas were grateful for. Heats were painful, miserable ordeals without some relief; either through a sexual partner, by oneself, or an OHN. 

Birth control prevented heats altogether, it even worked on omegas that didn’t have uteruses or ovaries. But it was only accessible if they have health insurance, which most of the time was either unaffordable, or omegas were in the unfortunate position of their boss claiming religious and moral objections in order to not cover it. Most omegas aren’t open about their second genders to their employers for good reason too.  

It’s harder to go through alone because the effects of the heat fever are disorienting, and practically the only thing an omega can think about is getting off over and over to make the painful arousal go away. Hopefully, they would pass out for the rest of the remaining time. So other needs like food, water, and bathing tend to go neglected. 

Which is why having someone else to look after them tends to be a more ideal option, and is unfortunately the least safe option as well. There were still many who had archaic ideas about omegas and their heats, and there was very little a vulnerable omega in heat could do if someone tried to take advantage. In some places there are what are called Heat Shelters, nonprofits that look after omegas that can’t access OHNs or birth control. But most states only have one, maybe two, or none at all, and they only have room for so many occupants. Heat Clinics are much more common, but are only available if one has health insurance that will cover it. Contrary to popular belief, omegas don’t specifically need an alpha’s knot during heat; orgasms are all that’s required. Though many believe in the myth, to a predatory degree. 

Will shakes his head,” It’s too early, it’ll make you sick if you take it before your heat is in full.”

Mischa shivered; she felt more than a little uneasy about experiencing a true heat. 

“It’s going to hurt.”

“I’ll be right here when it hits, it’ll be over fast. Then you’ll have your first period shortly after.”

Mischa groaned in even more unease and Will chuckled, wrapping an arm around her.

“I know, I know it sucks. But…someday you may appreciate heats when you have someone that you can trust to help you through them. Especially if there’s love between you. And especially, if you choose to have pups of your own. It’s one of the most beautiful things in the world.”

Clarice walked into the house, with a bright smile on her bruised face.

“Molly and Wanda are here,” she announced, a happy melody to her voice.

Will didn’t say another word to Mischa about her soon approaching heat, and turned his attention to his visiting neighbors. Molly and Wanda are two of only three locals that really know the Starling family, with Will becoming acquainted and eventually friends with Molly when the twins were toddlers. Wanda is the same age as the twins, making Will and Molly the only two single mothers in Naubinway.   

“Hey Chris, everything alright? Saw that cop car come down the road from your place,” Molly worriedly asked in a single breath.

Not to mention the visible wounds on his pups, especially Clarice, who had fresh stitches in her scalp and a new Alpha scent.

“Uhh, long story. Girls why don’t you three hang outside with Wanda for a bit?”

Mischa nodded and Clarice’s smile brightened, taking Wanda’s hand as they rushed back outside. The long-haired twin followed after them with a knowing smile. Wanda was a friend to them both, but Clarice always had a special fondness for her, as Wanda was the only other girl as tomboyish as herself. 

They went running for the tree house, which was located a few hundred feet away from the cabin yet still could be seen from the front porch. Their mother had built it for them when they were about eight years old; it had felt like a virtual tower when they were that age. 

Mischa and Clarice kept all their secret things there, particularly books or magazines they were too young for by mom’s standards. Nothing especially risqué like erotica -at least not yet- but the twins had an  affinity for murder mysteries, horror novels, and particularly books about real life criminals. Will had grown to let them consume the first two as they aged, but he had yet to ever let them read or watch anything regarding the third. The small collection they’d gathered over the years were worn used books that were either sold cheap at the local marketor gifts from Wanda. Speaking of which.

Once they were a far enough distance from the cabin so their parents couldn’t hear hushed words, Wanda leaned against Clarice to whisper and took out a book from the bag hanging from her shoulder. 

“You ever heard of The Chesapeake Ripper?”

“Hmm? Nope, haven’t heard of that one!”

“I won’t tell you anything, just read this book. I was so sucked into it, I read it in three days.”

Clarice smiled and took the book, her fingers brushing over her best friend’s fingers in a way that lingered slightly. Wanda didn’t step back from her, but still leaned into her and took a small whiff of her hair as they approached the tree house.     

“Wow, what a scent.”

“Oh um, is it bad?”

“No! I like it! I love dogs!”

Mischa was walking behind them, and could see her twin’s ears are growing red. She giggled and Clarice swung her head back with a glare, but was completely un-intimidating as her face was also red with embarrassment.Mischa stuck out her tongue playfully between her teeth in response. The Alpha ignored her, slinging her arm over Wanda’s shoulders instead, as they continued walking.

“Thanks, bet your smell will be nice too.”

Clarice climbed up the sturdy ladder of tree house first, then Wanda, and just as Mischa was about to step foot on it, a shout came rang through the air from the cabin.

“Mischa! I don’t want you climbing anything when you’re not feeling well!”

She turns around to see Will standing at the front doorway with a hand on his hip. Her brows furrow at him, and his own raise up in response with the all too familiar look of “don’t argue, I mean it.”  

Wanda and Clarice peered down at her from inside the tree house.

"What's mom talking about?"

"Nothing, I just mentioned I feel a little dizzy," she lied, embarassed to say she's in preheat.

Mischa huffs, indignant to not be allowed to climb the same ladder she’s been climbing for years. She considers waiting for Will to just slink back into the house and then climb up anyway, but he and Molly take seats together on the porch. Keeping the activity’s at the treehouse in full view.

“You want to do something else? We don’t have to hang in the tree house.” Wanda offers.

“No, no it’s fine,” Mischa sighs, she waves them off and heads back to the house.

She notices as she approaches closer, Will and Molly’s voices steadily hush and pause their conversation altogether once she’s back on the porch with them. Obviously having a talk she a kid wasn’t supposed to hear, so she strolls past them like she doesn’t notice. Once inside she slips off her shoes and moves slowly across the hardwood floors to an armchair, that’s just below a window. An open window that’s just around the corner from where the adults are chatting, ideal spot for ease dropping.

“Don’t get it twisted Molly, I’m not some self-hating omega-“

Mischa’s blinks as she hears her mother’s voice, realizing he’s talking about her.

“I’m just fine being omegan, and I don’t want my kid to hate being omegan…but I can’t help being…”

“Scared for her,” Molly says, finishing his thought.

“Clarice won’t have to hide, and sure in _theory_ Mischa doesn’t have to either. But come on, there’s a reason you and I wear beta cologne.” His words are delivered with a bitter edge to them.

The eavesdropper blinks some more in question, she hadn’t known Molly was omega before though it explained a lot about why Will was as close to her as he was.

“Least she won’t have to worry about money,” Molly says.

Will doesn’t respond at first, but then Mischa hears a heavy sigh from him. It’s not hard for the teenager to put two and two together why. Their neighbor like him was a single mother, omega, and previously had the protection of an Alpha mate. But one stark difference was although Will knew what it was like to be poor, he was far from that now and Molly was poor. If he gets outed, he’ll get treated differently by the residence of Naubinway, so will his daughters, possibly be threatened with violence, and maybe even driven out by sheer harassment. But Molly? If she were outed she could lose her job and then would’ve even have the funds to move like Will could.

“I’m sorry Molly, that was insensitive. I should be more conscious of the privileges I have.”

“Don’t be, I wasn’t trying to say you can’t be scared for your kid or make this about me. Just trying to make some levity…and I got privileges you don’t have too.”

Mischa understood what Molly meant by that as well; Will presents and identifies as male (mostly), but many would misgender him as female because he’s omegan and has the parts to bare pups. Regardless of how he identifies. It was common practice for intersex people like him to be surgically altered at birth, statistically they tended to turn out omega. Thankfully he was never subjected to such invasive surgery. He’d educated all this barbaric bit of American culture to the twins, diligently.

“God I hope last night didn’t scar them for life,” he sighed.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure Wanda has been traumatized at least twice already.”

Mischa smiles as both the adults laugh, happy for some levity in their conversation. It was hard for her to listen to Will talk about his fears for her future, especially after all that encouragement earlier. No wonder he didn’t want her to hear their conversation.

“Wanda hasn’t presented yet?”

“Nope. But I’m sure any day now.”

“You’re not worried about presenting from being around Clarice?”

“Nah, I’m hoping for it. Get it done and over with.”

Almost like an answer to her hope there was a sudden change in the air’s scent as a breeze hit from the direction of the treehouse, Clarice’s wolfish musk mingled with something else. It smelled of pine, lavender, and grass like the woods but sweeter and like concentrated perfume. Neither Will or Molly speak as their chairs scruff against the wooden porch and they jog to the treehouse.

Mischa peered out the window, then cautiously came out the house to see what the fuss was all about. Will’s voice was raised as he and Molly stood below the treehouse.

“Clarice, is Wanda ok?”

“Uh-erm yeah? No!” Her voice is shaky like she’s embarrassed, but the door is closed.

“How bout you two come down from there?”

There is a sharp whine from inside the treehouse and it’s definitely not from the Alpha.

“Clarice,” Will says, a warning in his tone.

“Fine!” she growls, and the floor door opens.

Everyone on the ground looking up blinks for a moment at the sight of Clarice’s face, her irises were slightly red, her cheeks flushed, and her lips puffy. Molly’s mouth gapes at the sight, Will covers his mouth as he smiles, and Mischa well she’s a bit confused about why her twin looks to be on the verge of another rut. Oh! Oh they had been kissing!

“Come down from there honey, bring Wanda down with you.”

Clarice blushes intensely, and disappears for a moment, some movement and more whining can be heard. Then the second she reappears with Wanda in her arms she leaps down from the door and lands in her feet. The newly presented omega arms are wrapped tight around her neck, and she herself closes her eyes as she inhales that scent woodsy scent from dark hair. Molly steps toward with a look of concern, but Clarice doesn’t put Wanda down instead holds her tighter.

“Clarice…she’ll be fine, you can put her down.”

She still hesitates, nuzzling into that sweet aroma but then gently put her down onto her feet. Wanda is a bit wobbly, but the Alpha still holds her by the waist to keep her steady. But then Molly steps from behind her daughter, hands on her shoulders and turns her. The new omega’s face has a light sheen of sweat, her irises glow gold, fangs extended, and she’s softly panting. Mischa quietly takes in the sight, processing that this is what an omega in full heat looks like.

“Hey kiddo, you don’t look so good.”

Wanda nods, as her mom pulls her into a hug. At the same time Will comes from behind Clarice, clasping his hand to her nape and then catches her as she goes pliant. She immediately whines like the pup she still is.

“There, there take in my scent it’ll calm you down,” he soothes, as he angles her face into his neck.

One of the handy things about the scent of an omega or Alpha’s parent(s), is it can settle down ruts and heats. Nothing like a the smell of one’s own mother to seriously turn one off.

“Molly, you want to use one of my OHNs?”

“Nah, I’ll just take her home.”

“Alright, it was good to see you. Let me know you got home ok, kay?”

She nods with a wave as she guides Wanda to her car, petting her head. The teen eyes over at Clarice with a weak smile, which the Alpha returns though her smile is far less shy. Their eyes linger on each other till they no longer could, as Molly takes her home, and Will takes Clarice inside.

“It feels different from yesterday,” she said, as Will settled her down on the couch.

“Yeah, stress ruts are different I’ve told you that.”

“Different from feeling it myself.”

“How does it feel?” asked Mischa, as she sat beside her twin unafraid.

“I don’t feel like I’m out of control, I just…” Clarice blushes intensely,” wanted to keep her close to and uh…help.”

“You don’t need to give gory details sweetie, but those feelings are normal. You’re not quite in full rut, don’t need another ARN. The effects of the one from last night probably stopped you from going into full rut,” Will says all this as he feels her forehead.

“I still wouldn’t have lost control, right?” she asks, voice pitched with nerves.

“No, no like I said a normal rut doesn’t do that your urges would be strong but you’d been able to control yourself.”

“Good,” she murmurs, as the red in her irises dull back to their clear blue.

“And from now on Clarice, when Wanda visits you’re to keep the treehouse window open or your bedroom door open where you two hangout.”

“Seriously?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He chimes, with an amused grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! It was actually going to be longer, then I felt like that last line from Will was a good end. There was going to be a scene where Mischa goes into full heat, but well...it was already the longest chapter thus far and just couldn't keep going.**
> 
> **Please drop a comment, tell me if you liked this chapter and what you liked what it. If you have any advice for improvement I'd love to read it! I adore all your comments!**

**Author's Note:**

>   **Thank you so much to everyone for the lovely comments and encouragement to turn what started out as a simple oneshot into a fully fledged out story. I wouldn't have done it without you!**
> 
> **Please continue to share your thoughts on how things progress, I love engaging with you all. ******


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